The Sadness in the Summer
by Autumn Mosaic
Summary: After 7-13, Brennan & Booth spend their summer trying to find their way back to each other, again. This is my take on what that might look like.
1. Booth at the Chapel

A/N _This story is my attempt to occupy myself over the summer hiatus. I will attempt to publish at least weekly - on Thursday. I would appreciate whatever feedback you are willing to take the time to share. I don't care for long a/n, so let me apply the standard disclaimer, I own only my own bones, not 'Bones' *sigh*. _

Booth sat on the steps of the church, devastated. He had known this was a possibility. It had been in the back of his mind since Max first brought it up, but he still wasn't ready to face it. He was the heart guy, and his heart wasn't ready to concede defeat.

Even as the thought entered his head, he balked at it. Pelant may have won this battle, but he will make sure that they win the war. He was a sniper, and he was the best. He knew how to be patient, to play the long game. One shot, one kill. The next time they had him in their sites, whether literally or figuratively, he'd make sure it was the last.

First things first: debriefing. He knew what was waiting for him at home. Warrants, both to search their house, and to arrest his Bones. He had the envelope Max left in his car, after repairing the damage he'd done. It was the least he could have done, as far as Booth was concerned. He opened it, and found her beautiful handwritten letter inside.

_Booth,_

_I am penning this letter with great remorse. I am so sorry that I cannot stay, nor leave Christine, but it was the logical choice. If I were to be arrested, I would be vulnerable within the penitentiary system. You would be unable to focus on your job, as you would be distracted trying to protect me. Taking Christine was a difficult decision as well. Please know that I chose this with great difficulty. I did not wish to deprive you of your child, but Christine's nutritional requirements are best met by me, and you can focus on proving my innocence._

_I did not wish to leave you, even less so without an opportunity to apologize, which is the purpose of this letter. You could not know of my plans, or you would be placed in harm's way as well. You need to remain, for Parker, and to find Pelant. _

_I am aware that you will likely need to submit this correspondence to the FBI to prove you were uninvolved in my plans to be on the kid (you must explain to me when I return what infant farm animals have to do with fleeing). I am unsure as to whether I will be able to communicate my feelings to you prior to my departure. Considering this, I wish to say the following, despite our understanding that what is ours is ours: I am not in a relationship with you solely because of our progeny. I am exceedingly happy to have Christine, however, I have found that my love for you is something much greater than I can attribute solely to having procreated together. _

_It is unlikely that I will be able to communicate with you again until my name is cleared, so it is with heavy heart (metaphorically) that I must now end this letter, as I have much to do before I depart._

_With love and deepest regret,_

_Your 'Bones'_

She was right, of course. He had to turn it over to Flinn if he had any hope of being reinstated, and he needed to be. First, prove he was not involved in Bones' disappearance, then face the music for his confrontation with Pelant. He won't be allowed near the case, officially, but FBI resources will prove invaluable at some point very soon, he was sure of it.

He couldn't think about what she had said, both in person and in print, right now. It would only tear him up. He'd think about it later, when he had her back in his arms, where she belonged.


	2. Bones in the Car

Deciding to leave was the most difficult thing she had ever done. It seemed like just a few days ago, they thought they had won a small victory in court. In actuality, it _was_ only a few days ago. Two nights ago, they discovered his latest body, and yesterday, the evidence began piling up against her. Last night, her dad suggested she consider his help, and this morning, she agreed. Booth couldn't know, of course. It was the only thing she had left that she could control, protecting him, and Christine, in the most effective way she had at her disposal.

It was shocking how well formed her father's plan actually was, but when she considered it, he probably merely had to adapt his previous methodology to the current situation. She had little time now, but she knew she would spend far too many hours contemplating the similarities and differences between what her parents did, and what she was doing now.

He had plenty of cash stashed away. He said you can't trust banks, you never know, anyone could just walk in and rob it. She supposed he intended his statement to be ironic. He still instructed her to obtain some cash, too, but not enough to trigger any real notice by anyone. He had her pack a small bag of toiletries and clothing that she rarely wore, and leave it for him to pick up later. They were both very careful not to alert Booth.

He already had plenty of items for Christine - he had them for his 'grandpa time' as he called it - practically a second, portable nursery - all of which he was able to neatly pack in the trunk of a small car.

He also had plenty of friends upon which he was able to call on short notice - her first stop would be to exchange her vehicle with someone who also would assist her in altering their appearance and obtaining basic false identity information, should they need it.

Shortly thereafter, she was to meet up with him, when he would update her on the home front, and give her further contact instructions. They were to be completely technology free, and they would have very little direct contact after that, until Booth succeeded.

Her father made it so easy. Of course, despite all his effort, this would be the most difficult, painful thing she ever had to do. Certainly, he understood that. Perhaps it was because he knew that, but believed firmly that it was the best thing, that he was so harsh with her. He had pushed her mercilessly, and brooked no conversation about doubt or emotions. There was time to feel after this was over - after her name was cleared, and her family was safe.

He was good at this. Perhaps too good. Only now that she has committed to this, there was no such thing. She only hoped that this was not the one thing that would finally be the end. Can the center hold, when it is pulled apart by distance, or worse, by time? She had to believe that it would.

As she wrote the letter, she restrained the tears, refusing to let the emotion override her brain. She couldn't say anything of her plans to record her travels in the letter. It would be too much, knowing that it would be viewed by others. She could only hope he'd understand. She'd find a way to keep him connected with his daughter, to make amends for some of the pain she was causing.

She almost turned around when she saw him in the rear view mirror. For the first time, the tears fell. It was good that Christine slept for that first hour, because she did not stop crying. It took all of her will power not to go back, and several times she almost gave in. She had to hold on to her faith in him, in them


	3. The Squints in the Mighty Hut

A/N I apologize for posting late, I intended to have this up last night, but 4 kids in RL can be far more distracting than one might wish for, at times. Thanks for the favorites and reviews. I will try to reply as I can. Without further ado, onto the story. (*sigh* I still don't own Bones)

As he pulled into the driveway of their Mighty Hut, Booth saw Flinn waiting for him with full entourage. They were already in the house, searching everything, of course. Flinn immediately asked the obvious question.

"Where's Dr. Brennan?"

"Good afternoon, to you too." He had to cooperate, but he didn't have to be too nice about it.

He handed him the letter. Flinn read through it twice, than asked the next obvious question.

"Are you saying you had nothing to do with this?"

"Actually, she's saying it. But since you're asking, no, I knew nothing about it, Flinn. Do you think I'd be standing here like a fool talking to you if I knew where my family was?"

"I understand that you are under a great deal of stress, Booth. I'm not the enemy. I'm only trying to find the truth, to do my job."

"That may be, but you should know, you are in over your head with this guy. If he can pull this off, frame Bones and Caroline, play these games with the whole Jeffersonian and the FBI, you better believe he can do worse to you."

"You mentioned that before. Just let me warn you, though. If I find the evidence, I will arrest Dr. Brennan, and she will be prosecuted."

"Yeah, thanks for the warning. Are your boys done tearing apart my house? I've had a really long day and I'd like to get some sleep."

"We are, actually. We'll need to retain some things, obviously. Laptops, files, you know... We left the inventory on the kitchen table."

"Right. So if that's all, then?"

Booth knew from the beginning he wasn't getting sleep tonight. He hit the fridge for a beer, than he dialed Hodgins. He didn't want to allow himself time to think about what had happened today. He couldn't. He'd stop and think when he got his family home.

They were there within the hour. Angela had Michael on her hip, which minimized the gesturing, but did nothing to calm her voice, perhaps even made it worse.

"Omygod, this just can't be happening. It's really happening, isn't it?"

For his part, Hodgins was holding together well. The conspiracy theorist in him had yet to make an honest appearance (although he had begun carrying a signal jammer in case of bugs, but no one needed to know that just yet). Still, he couldn't help but focus them on solving the riddle.

"OK, so you have got to see this thing this Ethan guy left on the wall. I don't even know where to begin, we don't have a mathematician on this level at the Jeffersonian. We can try running some computer programs, at least possibly assign meaning to some of these symbols, or associate them somehow, but interpreting it altogether? Computers can't do that man!"

He pulled out his laptop while he was talking and began scrolling through pictures. Booth was looking over his shoulder, still overwhelmed, as Angela handed Jack the baby and sat down in front of the laptop.

"I can access some of the programs I have on the Angelatron remotely, and I can use them to try to associate them with known mathematical functions or something, but I've got background programs still running on the QR code thing so it'll take time, and even if I get something, we need a human genius to interpret them."

Hodgins had to put it out there, so "You know, we need to remember that every time we touch technology, we make ourselves vulnerable to Pelant. We've got to assume that he has his little technological tentacles everywhere. Dr. B visited Ethan, but how did he alter the time stamp, or even know that she was there in the first place? She requested that plant, but how did he know? Just so you know, I'm carrying a bug jammer/detector everywhere I go these days, and I ain't using email or cel phones for anything."

Booth grimaced at the paranoia, but agreed overall. "Yeah, you got a point. We still should keep runnin' Angela's stuff on the QR reader, he'd already know if he's gonna, about that, but this triangle needs to stay on the QT. We need some names - get this stuff out to people we can trust and keep it away from any technology. Has Cam done anything with it yet?"

"Nahh, we weren't sure what to do with it yet, and then the s**t hit the fan with Dr. B, Sweets, Carolyn and everything. Got the pics taken, but haven't scanned them or anything."

"Great. See if you can get Cam to sit on it. Keep it as hardcopy only, forget to log it, do what you got to. Then we gotta find someone who can help us figure it out. Can you guys think of anyone else who could figure this out?"

Offhandedly, Angela said, "Well, I always just ask Brennan, When Jack isn't around. I get the computer stuff, but the fringe mathematical theorizing is beyond me."

"Hey, me too, man, really. Sorry, but numbers was always Zach's thing back in the day, I just tagged along for the ride."

Booth latched onto it. "Just what we need. One genius nut job to interpret another - or two. Is Zach still in DC?"

Jack spoke up. "Yeah, actually. Sweets can't seem to let go of the idea that he needs to 'help' him somehow, but no one but the psychologists have access to him. He quit taking visitors outside of his family ages ago. I send him stuff here and there, but it's been hard, man…"

"Yeah, I get it" he said, and he really did, but he had no time for emotions, he was already dialing Sweets


	4. Pain in the Plot

A/N Here is a longer chapter since I was unable to post earlier. Reviews are appreciated, and somehow make the words come faster ;-)

Standard disclaimers still apply - I own bones, but not Bones.

It had been six hours of driving, and she had yet to get to the first destination. Back roads were safer, but far more time consuming. They had planned a stop every three hours for Christine in the schedule, and she had one more scheduled stop, both for gas and feeding herself and Christine, before she arrived at her first destination. She would arrive somewhere around 2 am, exhausted and in desperate need of sleep.

Christine would only sleep until 6, but she could nap when Christine did the following day. She would have little time to spend doing anything but caring for Christine and driving for quite some time, but perhaps this is what she needed to get through this terrible time.

This stop was to exchange the first car and pick up her false identity. Her dad planned to meet her 3 days later, and exchange cars with her again. She was grateful, now, for the eidetic memory that she possessed, presumably having inherited it to a large extent from him, and that they now relied upon to maintain the plan, and back-up plans they had in place for the next few weeks.

Fortunately, Max was not implicated, though suspected, in assisting in her disappearance. He had plenty of underground contacts that he knew how to access without raising suspicion, and he could come and go between DC and wherever they had planned to meet, albeit circuitously and infrequently - they only planned to meet once before she was cleared, if possible.

Brennan was accustomed to traveling alone, being alone, or she had been. Now, being away from Booth for the first time since their new 'partnership' commenced, she was grateful to at least have Christine to remind her of Booth. It was a bittersweet recollection, but kept her grounded. She had convinced her dad that a laptop that lacked networking capability was acceptable, and this allowed her to continue writing, though she did not expect to find time, much less inspiration. At the least, she was able to document her days in the hopes that it would serve as some sort of bond, eventually, with Booth, when all of this was over. That was her plan - a method of atoning for the sin of having deprived him of his daughter over the next few days or weeks (she refused to consider months as yet). He had made indelible marks on her, such that she was contemplating sin and atonement, but she had known that for some time now.

The meeting with Max went exactly as planned. He truly was quite good at this, and she shuddered to think that she was doing the same to Booth that was done to her all those years ago. She constantly found she needed to reassure herself that it was different. This was only temporary. Booth was an adult. She would return. She had said a goodbye, of sorts. It was only for a little while. She contemplated whether the broken record playing in her head was an early sign of mental illness. It could not be. She needed to be whole. She would be. Whatever it took.

She gave Max a ton (metaphorically) of pictures - the digital camera he had given in to was quite nice. He would find a way to safely get them back to Booth. The pictures weren't much, but she had some video that they didn't want to risk sending back yet, and she recorded every little detail of the changes she saw in Christine in her journal. She wouldn't record details that would document where they had been or were going, just in case, but she would remember and share it with him soon.

In the time that she was in the motel room, and Christine was napping, she found all she could focus on was how Pelant was managing to do these things and not leave a trail, and how

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BOOTH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shortly after the Hodgins family left, Booth's cell phone rang. He looked at it hopefully, but instead of a random burner phone number (as he'd hoped), the Hoover prefix clearly lit up his sighed, wondering who could possibly want what with him now.

"Booth," he said, trying desperately not to sound as dejected as he felt.

"Good evening, Agent Booth. How are you this evening?"

"I don't expect this is a social call at this point, so what is it, Agent Flynn?"

"Well, ummm…, actually, you're right. I need you to come in to the Hoover to answer some questions. I'd rather this be voluntary?"

Booth could hear a strange questioning tone in his voice, and so he figured it wouldn't hurt to play along.

"Yeah, sure, Agent Flynn. Anything to help the investigation." OK, so he was human, he couldn't help taking a little pot shot of sarcasm here and there.

"So you want me to come in tonight, then?"

"That would be best, I think. Perhaps half an hour from now?"

"Right. See you then"

When Booth arrived, he found Agent Flynn waiting for him. He asked that Booth come with him, and then he found himself in the Hoover's own tech lab. An agent arrived and asked for his phone, then did a bug sweep. After that, Flynn took him up to his office.

"Alright, Flynn, I've played along until now, even though the last thing I really feel like doing is cooperating with the guy that is after Bones, but don'tcha think its about time you explained what is going on?"

"I'm sorry about all this Booth, and I appreciate you coming in. Obviously you didn't have to cooperate, so I appreciate that."

He took a deep breath before he began. "Well, Booth, to be honest, I'm not sure yet. What I do know is that during the execution of the warrant to search your house, we found absolutely none of the information we would expect Dr. Brennan or you to have on the Sawyer case, or any other casework, almost as if someone had cleared out all of your files, electronic and hard copy, prior to our arrival."

"What are you getting at, Flynn? I can tell you right now that I did not remove anything from my house between your visits, and we wouldn't have had anything to worry about if you had found all our files, so why'd you call me down here?"

"Well, after the initial sweep, some of our techs found some strange things. Seriously stealthy high-tech monitoring equipment, and... what appears to be a bomb inside your alarm clock."

"...and you think Bones had something to do with it? Or me? Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

"No, that's just it. The monitoring equipment makes sense, but the bomb, that just doesn't compute. We wouldn't even have found it if this one ex-army EOD tech that was sweeping for bugs hadn't known what he was looking at. The thing is, as things stand currently, I am beholden to my assignment to pursue Dr. Brennan, but since we found this bomb thing, I went upstairs and had a chat with Director Hacker, and he had a chat, well you know how it goes…"

"Yeah, and so?"

"It seems that the interoffice memos on this case are not matching up with the real-life memories of the officers involved. Someone has been messing around in the technological side of all of this, and I don't get it all yet, but they're telling me that either your girlfriend is hacking our system while on the run to put herself in more legal trouble, or someone else is."

"I told you, this guy is smart, but he might finally be making a wrong move if you are willing to consider this. The problem is, all we can prove is that someone manipulated the system to incriminate Bones, but not who or how, so he still gets off scott free."

"Well, we wouldn't have found any of this if we hadn't found the bomb. And according to this little EOD prodigy, something about a directional blast of that size, and someone laying on that bed, and…"

"Yeah, well I've taken enough bomb blasts in my life already, I'm very grateful for that."

"OK so the thing is, where do we take it from here?"

"Well, I don't care to fake a death right now, if that is what you are asking?"

"No, but some of our techno-geeks want a shot at hacking the hacker, but this puts you at a much greater risk, so it's ultimately your call."

"Meaning?"

"We have not yet disabled the bomb, or the monitoring equipment in your home. They want to hack into the feed and send him info that looks like you going to sleep in that room, but it'll be feed of you in another room."

"I got it. And then?"

"We try to follow the feed, and if we find him, we can at least arrest him on that. Sometimes that is all it takes."

"And if you can't?"

"...if we can't, we have an angry bomber on our hands who may or may not be a serial killer, who knows his death plot for you has failed, and likely has discovered Dr. Brennan was not arrested."

"Right. OK, sure. Let's do this thing.


	5. The Genius in the Psych Ward

Booth was getting anxious. He played his part last night, first signing off on allowing this whole scenario to play out, taking the risk of his bedroom getting blown and all, and then playing his part in the hotel room for the fake feed.

It had been almost easy to take the risk of angering Pelant when he only considered his life on the line, but it didn't take long before he realized that he had no way of knowing where that anger was going to be directed - him, the FBI, the Jeffersonian, or Bones. He had to believe that Max would keep his word and keep Christine and Bones safe.

Besides Bones, though, there was the FBI, and the Jeffersonian team as targets. He'd already warned the Hodgins to play it close to the vest, and get some security measures going, especially since Pelant addressed Hodgins directly in one of his interviews. He'd called Cam and asked her to be careful, as well, until he could resolve this or get protective details for them. She'd already agreed to let Hodgins put a private security detail in place for her. This really was a first, but it seemed warranted.

Once Flynn's plan played out, they were more or less back where they began. Not only did they not identify where the feed came from, they walked away from the whole thing with a crispy bedroom, and for all they knew, one of their own team sent the signal.

Booth wasn't sure that having Flynn on his side was a good thing, at this point. The techs were humiliated; they had been out-maneuvered. They were fairly certain the bomber had recognized what they were doing, but blew the place anyway, and left them reeling trying to trace how he did it and from where. Now they've tipped their hand, and Pelant knows that the FBI is investigating other leads besides Bones, and Booth is now a victim in their eyes. Who knows where he'll go with that?

With last night still on his mind, Booth arrived at the diner almost 30 minutes ahead of his appointment with Sweets. After an hour in the hotel gym, he'd gone for a one hour early morning run to burn off some of the nervous energy he still had, and besides, it helped him think. He hadn't eaten since Bones and Christine left, but he found it necessary to fuel up now, considering both the extra workout, and the energy he would need to endure this. He was just finishing breakfast when he saw Sweets walk in.

"So what did you find out, Sweets?"

"...good morning, Agent Booth."

He sounded a bit apologetic, but still insistent, as he replied. "Look, I don't have time for pleasantries, Sweets. My family is gone, and this guy is winning. I gotta fix that. So what do we know?"

Sweets gratefully took the coffee he had ordered when he first walked by the counter. "Perhaps we can discuss this on the way to our next destination?"

Booth was clearly distracted, struggling to focus on what Sweets said, and so he just agreed and followed him. They got into Sweets little car, and began to drive, as Sweets began to talk.

"So you asked what _we_ have. _We_ have been visiting Zach Addy in the institution for several years now, about once a quarter. He has further withdrawn from societal interaction since his incarceration, almost exclusively interacting with myself and a librarian at the center who is willing to feed his voracious appetite for reading material, primarily published papers in mathematics. He has all but abandoned his interest in anthropology, attributing his inability to comprehend human dynamics fully as the source of his logical mis-steps, and…"

"Yeah, Yeah, Sweets, I'm not asking for a profile. I know Zach. I'm asking if I can get in to see him, and if he'd help solve this triangle on the wall thingy"

"Right. Well, actually, Hodgins and Angela gave me the file, but Zach has had almost no contact outside the facility beside myself and his immediate family since he's been there..."

"Great. Let's get going."

Clearly, Booth wasn't listening to a word he said. "...ummm, Agent Booth, I think perhaps you should focus on dealing with your own issues, you are on suspension pending a review of…"

"Right, I gotcha, Sweets. You wanna shrink me on the way over to see Zach. Fine, let's get this over with."

They continued to drive while Sweets led Booth to discuss the underlying issues that could be causing Booth to act impulsively regarding Pelant. Booth regaled him with the most recent occurrences, and although Sweets was clearly paying close attention, he was not about to let go of his primary goal.

"You know, all this is interesting, and presents some challenging prospects as to what Pelant's current end game is, but before we spend too much time on that, I'd really like to finish talking about the confrontation between you and Pelant yesterday…"

At first Booth had been distracted, then patiently humoring him, but at this point, he'd had enough.

"Look, Sweets, I get that you are trying to help. But I know I screwed up, ok. I own that. But, I can't get him back where he belongs by wallowing in that. I have to focus on getting Bones back, and to do that, I gotta focus on getting Pelant. I know I gotta play the long game now, I just lost sight of that when I thought he had her..."

"I'm glad to hear that you have thought through all this and have been working out…"

"Yeah, that's great, kid. So does this mean you can help me to get in to this guy's head, and get Bones back where she belongs?"

Booth had just noticed that they had pretty much driven in a huge circle, and they were pulling into the parking garage of the Jeffersonian. Sweets got out of the vehicle and began to walk toward the garden area. Booth huffed and jogged to catch up, as Sweets finally answered him.

"Well, you know, Agent Booth, that officially we have both been removed from working this case and it would be unethical…"

"Sweets, you know she didn't do this…"

"Right. That is why I'm off this case, Agent Booth."

"Look, I already explained that Flynn is ready to consider some alternative explanations, and at least explore who was behind tryin' to blow me up. Maybe you can profile my bomber for him?"

"I'll be glad to help in any way I can, Agent Booth, but I maintain that we need to be prepared to play the long game, as you said. That means first you need to focus on getting reinstated. I recommend requesting an appointment to be evaluated for tomorrow morning. You should do that immediately. You should be scheduled with one of two guys I know, and they will do the right thing, I'm sure of it. Just be sure to speak with them as you did with me earlier. They have to see that you are taking responsibility for your actions, and know that you won't make the same mistake again."

Sweets took in Booth's appearance, and hoped that he actually processed everything he just said. He couldn't tell whether his face was impassive because he was thinking, or just tuning him out entirely, since he was still not totally recovered from Bones' departure. He decided to just press on.

"Second, I'll talk to Flynn about working up a profile for the bomber. It will be complex, but I'll have to re-work my profile of Pelant separately, based on the bombing and what we've learned since I last profiled him. Finally, let me take this to Zach alone. You and the rest of the team need to stay away from Zach, and I will only take this to him at my regularly scheduled appointment. Don't worry though, it was just like, wickedly perfect that it will be this Monday."

Booth grimaced, reminded once again that the baby duck was still just a baby. Still, he had to ask. "That would explain why we're not at the institution, but why didn't you just say that and save all that gas?"

"I dunno. I figured you'd talk more if we were in a captured environment, plus, if we break up the venue enough, it's harder to track us or record what we say."

Booth sighed, and chuckled a little. "You been talkin' to the bug man too much."

"Booth, we're all in this, even Cam. You have to know that. I may sound paranoid like Hodgins, but this guy is wicked smart, and he's using technology in new ways we haven't even heard of before - he's makin' some of this stuff up. I think bringing Zach in is exactly the right thing to do, and it could help in his treatment as well."

"Yeah, but what do I do in the mean time?"

"Try to take it easy. I have to refine my profile on the guy, and you need to focus on something else. Check in with the Hodgins, keep an eye on Cam, and see what can be done to help Carolyn. We all need to pull together."

"Yeah, sometimes I forget that for a kid you're pretty smart. Thanks, Sweets."

"Anytime, Agent Booth, anytime." As Sweets left with a big grin on his face, Booth sighed and contemplated his next step.


End file.
